


Drabbles, Requests, and Things that I probably should have left alone

by DimiGex



Category: Naruto
Genre: And angst, Drabble Collection, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Multi, One Shot Chapters, Rare Pairings, Requests, Tumblr made me do it, and probably some humor, bittersweet endings, building a new armada of ships, lots of pining, mention of suicide, still open for requests
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-09-25 10:32:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 14,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9815948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DimiGex/pseuds/DimiGex
Summary: Occasionally I write short stories (as in 1500 words or less) either because an idea won't go away, or I get a request, or I'm bored with current projects. This is a random collection of those stories. There will probably be a lot of KakaSaku and Kakayama, but there will be other pairings too. If you have a request you can send it to me here or on tumblr or whatever. I can't promise I'll do them all or it will be done quickly (the muse is fickle) but I'm always open to requests





	1. Confessions - Kakashi/Sakura

"I love you." The words tumble out of Kakashi's mouth before he's fully aware of what he's saying.

There's a moment of stunned silence, during which the battle noise around them dies abruptly. At least, it does for him, and somehow, that's enough.

"I love you," Kakashi repeats, voice firming on the words. "I'm in love with you," he amends.

The shocked expression on Sakura's face is almost enough to make him laugh. _Almost._ "Wh-what?" Her uncharacteristic stutter is endearing, and he chooses to focus on that. Part of Kakashi's mind warns that they're in the middle of a battle, this is neither the time nor the place. But they're shinobi, hardly normal by any standard that could measure them. In the moment, battle-time confessions make perfect sense.

Kakashi doesn't fight it. "I have for so long that I don't even know when it began." The words drive the air from his lungs, or maybe that's the fight, but either way, he can't breathe. The ground welcomes his collapsing knees.

There's a soft chuckle rising in the back of Sakura's throat. Her green eyes are impossibly brilliant against the drab grey and brown backdrop around them. Kakashi could lose himself in their emerald depths and not care to come back up for air. Her pale lips curl into a smile. "Oh?"

This time, Kakashi really does laugh and brushes a gloved hand over her dirty, scuffed, perfect cheek. "Yes," he answers, working his fingers through the tangles in her vivid hair. "You're the hum of combat, the calm of a rainy day, the fire that pushes me. You're everything."

"I love you too," Sakura breathes, eyes fluttering shut. Her words tighten the knot forming in Kakashi's chest, rather than loosening it. They throw the world into color around him. The blue of the sky has never been quite that bright before. Sakura's pink hair catches the breeze and twists around her forehead. The blood on her chest is achingly crimson as it pulses between the rip in her armor.

"Sakura?" Kakashi shakes her gently and gets no response. He had known it was coming from the moment he saw her wound. There was so much blood.

Uncaring, Kakashi scoops her body into his arms and presses a kiss to her cheek. It's tender and uncertain, two things Kakashi would have never imagined in himself. "You have to hold on," he whispers, voice on the edge of breaking. "You can't tell me that you love me, then leave me alone."

Sakura doesn't reply, and Kakashi forces himself to look away. If he can get her to Tsunade, there might be a chance, but it's a slim one. Cradling the woman he loves against his chest, Kakashi turns north, the last place he saw the medic. Enemy and war torn land stand between them, how much, he isn't certain. But, Kakashi knows the price is worth hearing Sakura say she loves him again. _If I can make it time._


	2. Echo (Neji/Tenten)

The golden glow of firelight painted soft shadows on the faces gathered around it. The air wasn't cold necessarily, but something about the inherent warmth of companionship drew half a dozen shinobi. A few ate hard ration bars or soldier pills, but most simply crouched on their heels, watching the flames.

Though each headband proclaimed allegiance to the Allied Shinobi forces, Tenten could see the differences. The deeply tanned face of one young man spoke of a life in the sun, almost certainly a Suna shinobi. The color of another woman's flak vest marked her as a Kiri nin. Others were more familiar, ninja from the Leaf. In the end, it didn't matter; they were all soldiers.

Turning a kunai lazily between her fingers, the kunoichi watched the leaping flames. So much had changed in a few short weeks. Tenten had gone from simple missions to the middle of a war zone. Of course, with only one day of battle behind her, excitement mixed with her apprehension. She saw the haunted look in the eyes of the older soldiers, though. Even the faces of Gai-sensei and the other jonin were shadowed. Tenten knew they were reliving their days from the last ninja war.

Tenten's thoughts turned to her own team. They'd proven strong thus far, but war ended the promise of tomorrow. She didn't often wallow in self-pity or fear; those things had no place in a shinobi's life. She was seventeen now, hardly a little girl. Whatever was meant to happen, would happen. No amount of apprehension about the future would change that. Even so, a hint of nervousness wormed its way through her mind.

"You should be resting," a voice called over her shoulder, loud enough to carry to everyone gathered by the fire. "We have a lot of ground to cover tomorrow."

Tenten expected at least a little grumbling, but each soldier rose, conceding to the logic in the words. As she moved to stand, Tenten felt the faintest touch of two fingers against her shoulder, holding her still. It disappeared when she got to her feet.

"I have to make a few more rounds, would you walk with me?" Neji delivered the request without turning toward Tenten. He stared into the darkness, veins standing out around his pearlescent eyes.

Tenten didn't answer, merely fell into step beside her teammate. A handful of soldiers nodded toward the two of them, eyes lingering on the Hyuga far more than his companion. Though most of the ninja world knew of the Hyuga Clan, seeing them was a different experience. Neji walked through the shinobi without seeming to notice the way gazes strayed to his face, then back to the ground. After the first circuit, he moved deeper into the trees around the encampment, the star strewn sky shifted with the soft rustle of leaves.

There were sentries in the forest, but they were few and far between. Neji surveyed the area without speaking, focused on his task. Tenten moved closer, silently slipping her hand into his and threading their fingers together. When that didn't appear to register, she tugged lightly at the connection, pulling Neji around to face her. The boy's face softened almost imperceptibly. "It's going to be fine," Tenten murmured, giving him one of her signature smiles.

Neji inclined his head. "I know."

"But you're still nervous." Tenten made it clear that she wasn't asking a question. "Don't worry. I'll protect you."

The soft chuckle that her teasing brought out eased some of Tenten's own apprehension. Neji must have seen the emotion in her eyes. He stepped closer and tucked away a strand of brown hair that had fallen loose from her bun. When he leaned in, she felt her heart flutter unexpectedly. The familiar brush of lips against hers provided a sense of comfort that she hadn't known she needed.

"That was bold of you," Tenten exhaled, their faces close enough that she could feel Neji's breath on her cheek.

"I thought you wanted me to be bolder," Neji returned, voice both playful, and low enough to make Tenten's stomach ache with longing. Though the pair had been together for nearly a year, they'd carefully hidden their relationship from their friends. Fingertips traced lightly down the side of her neck, and warm lips pressed against the exposed skin.

Tenten met Neji's gaze unabashedly. "I do."

"That's not enough?" Neji smiled, quirking his lips upward in that arrogant smile that Tenten had fallen for. "I still have to finish my rounds."

"You could hurry," Tenten responded, squeezing his hand briefly. Before Neji could respond, she slipped back toward the main camp. Even the forest was too public for their tryst.

Surrounded by others, Tenten felt like the rapidly drying dampness on her neck glowed, telling the rest of the world what had taken place. _Foolish fancy_ , she realized. No one was paying her the slightest attention whatsoever. Most were lost in their own silent thoughts, or laughing with friends. A few had the same furtive closeness that she and Neji had shared moments ago, now that she looked closer. Couples perhaps.

Gazing up at the stars overhead, Tenten drew a deep breath of night air. Worry tickled the back of her mind, but it was similar to what she felt before every mission. Her team had risked their lives any number of times. War was no different. Tenten had prepared as much as possible. Her weapons were sharpened, and the storage scrolls she carried were in perfect order. Only the waiting remained.

Exhaling, Tenten crossed the camp. Most shinobi slept outside in bedrolls, but a handful of tents had mushroomed up near the center of camp. Some were used as a medic station, but most were for ninja who commanded a higher respect than the average soldier. Tenten's dark eyes scanned the temporary lodgings, watching the coming and goings for several minutes while cleaning her nails with a kunai. Once she was sure of her movements, the kunoichi ghosted through the makeshift village. Slipping into one of the unoccupied tents hardly presented a challenge.

Removing her sandals, Tenten settled on the neatly folded blanket. Without turning on a lantern, she unzipped her flak vest and laid it on the ground, then perched her weapon pouches on top of it. She moved silently. Sneaking in did no good if she announced her presence. Tenten didn't have to wait long.

"I can still see your chakra." The sound of the tent flap dropping into place accompanied the soft hum of Neji's voice.

"I wasn't hiding from you." Tenten's eyes had adjusted just enough for her to see the outline of Neji crossing the tent and kneeling behind her. The man made a questioning sound as his hands fell on her shoulders. Warmth spiraled through Tenten at the touch. "But, I didn't think you'd want everyone to know that I spent the night here," she reasoned.

Neji worked his touch up Tenten's neck, pausing only at the bands securing her hair. With practiced ease, he undid the binding on first one side, then the other. Long fingers combed through the wavy tresses, letting them fall against her back. "War simplifies some things," Neji finally answered. "I want to be with you, and I don't care who knows."

Unable to stop the smile that pulled at her cheeks, Tenten leaned back into Neji's chest. "Imagine how Gai-sensei is going to react."

Neji shuddered and started to protest that they didn't need to tell everyone right away, but Tenten stopped the argument with a kiss. She'd waited long enough to tell people about their relationship. Despite his words, she could feel the curl of a smile on Neji's lips. She turned in his arms to more fully express her gratitude.

With moments, the innocence of their touch shifted into something else. When Tenten's fingers untied the knot on the back of his hatai-ate, Neji exhaled and tensed ever so slightly. Tenten gently traced her fingers over the curse mark that covered his forehead, feeling the shiver that passed through Neji's body. This wasn't the first time he'd lowered his guard with her, but each one underscored the reality that this was more than a casual fling born out of the heat of battle. Tonight wasn't even the first time they'd slept together, but something different blossomed between them, something that had to do with the uncertainty of the war. Touches lingered longer, and moments dragged themselves into too brief an eternity, racing against dawn's light.

Much later, Tenten lay curled against Neji's chest, listening to the steady pounding of his heart as he dragged a blanket over them. "Do you mean it," she whispered, feeling uncertainty creeping back into her heart as their minutes ticked away too quickly.

Neji's hand paused in the process of coming through her hair, fingers working through the tangles he'd put there. Tenten held her breath, wondering if it was possible that he'd already changed his mind. "I love you," Neji answered just as softly. "If you'll have me, we'll let everyone know when we're back in Konoha."

As far marriage proposals went, it was lackluster, but Tenten wouldn't have it any other way. She'd known for months that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with Neji. His bravery and courage challenged her, made her want to be a better person. Smiling to herself, Tenten snuggled closer to Neji's side. "I love you too."

They couldn't stay that way forever, not tonight. In just a few short hours, they would need to start breaking camp and moving toward the battlefield. When the time came, the pair dressed in darkness, handing each other weapons and armor until both were ready for the fight ahead.

"I'll see you tonight, when it's over?" Tenten questioned tentatively. The battle would eventually end, and she could crawl back to the safety that Neji provided.

"Of course," Neji answered.

Tenten placed another kiss on Neji's cheek. Then, quiet as only a kunoichi could be, she slipped out of the tent and back to where she should have been, step lighter than it had been in months. She wished they'd been able to stay together longer, but there would be plenty of time for that after the war.


	3. Moving On (Gaara/Sakura)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another tumblr request. I know it's not really a GaaSaku story, it's just the setup. But I started writing the drabble and ended up falling in love with the idea of them. So there may be a whole story in the works, and this is more of a prologue. But, I have to finish some other things up first. Enjoy!

Tears spilled down Sakura's cheeks despite her best efforts to hold them in. She'd known that this day might come, but she hadn't expected it to hurt quite this much. She couldn't draw in enough air, and the shattered pieces of her heart tried to worm their way free of her aching chest. Sakura forced another breath into her lungs, felt them expand to welcome it, even as she sobbed through the exhalation.

_You're such a baby_ , Sakura chided, watching the darkness settle around her. _You're still breathing, still alive. Think of all the people who didn't come home from the war._

Though Sakura knew it was true, the cold logic didn't bring her any comfort. Worldwide destruction had just been averted, partially through her own skill, and that of her team. She should have been celebrating, thankful to see another day. There had been dozens of invitations to do so. Half of the shinobi in Konoha seemed to have gone that route.

Barring celebration, Sakura should have been weeping over the loss. Ino and Shikamaru could have used the support of her friendship after losing their fathers. Or Tenten and Lee, after Neji's death. Instead, Sakura was crying because Sasuke didn't want her, wouldn't take her with him on his journey of atonement. The foolishness of it took her breath away, but that didn't stop the tears.

The soft scuff of a retreating foot caught Sakura's attention. Her head jerked up, fully expecting the culprit to be Naruto. Somehow, her teammate always knew when she needed someone, even when she wished he didn't. She'd seen the pity in his eyes when Sasuke rejected her, _again_. He must think she was an idiot for continuing to chase him.

Sakura turned toward the eavesdropper; it wasn't Naruto. Dusk softened the man's bright red hair, while somehow making his aquamarine eyes stand out starkly. A blush colored Gaara's high, pale cheekbones. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you."

"Kazekage-sama," Sakura greeted primly. She wiped at her cheeks, knowing the tear tracks would catch the moonlight, making it obvious that she'd been crying. "May I help you with something?"

"Gaara, please." The man's lips tilted into a phantom smile, like they were unused to the expression, but attempted the gesture anyway. "I didn't mean to impose, I just needed to get out of my room for a while."

Sakura nodded understandingly. Now that the war was over, the rebuilding process had begun. Even so, there was only so much that could be accomplished in a single day. Exhaustive lists of shinobi killed in action needed to be combed through, the Kages need to discuss their allegiances, then there was the physical restructuring. The task felt overwhelming.

"Me too," Sakura shifted slightly, lifting her feet from the ground. She'd wandered away from the main village, to a playground that she'd known would be deserted this time of night. Something about the soft creak of the swings, and the way the moonlight sparkled off the river in the distance comforted her. "I suppose I look quite childish sitting here. Alone, when there are million things I could be doing."

Gaara raised his shoulders in a shrug as his teal eyes roved over the shadowed equipment. "There are dozens of things that need my attention as well." The man crossed the pebbled stone and lowered himself onto a swing next to her.

Sakura watched him from the corner of her eye. Gaara's lips were set in the serious expression that almost always graced his features. Thinking back, she remembered the frantic worry in his eyes as he watched her force Naruto's heart to pump until the Fourth Hokage could save him. There had been a moment of joy when Naruto drew another breath, a true smile of friendship, not just hope for winning the war. The Kazekage wasn't entirely emotionless.

"Naruto is worried about you." Gaara's voice was oddly formal to her ears, but there was an undertone of worry in it.

Sakura forced out a chuckle, then pushed off the ground, swinging backward, and closed her eyes. Gaara didn't say anything, just watched her with khol rimmed eyes. "Naruto worries about a lot of things he can't fix. It isn't his place," she began, meeting his gaze.

Gaara frowned for a moment, then spoke suddenly. "Why don't you come to Suna for a few months?"

Dropping her feet to the ground, Sakura raised an eyebrow at the Kazekage. "What? Why?"

Shoulders dipping forward as he looked at the ground, Gaara considered his words. "I can't claim to have much experience with relationships, but Naruto has taught me a great deal about them in theory. The one thing that I do know, however, is that they aren't supposed to hurt like this." He half-gestured to Sakura's cheek, then let his hand fall away. "I imagine love should hurt even less."

For a moment, shock stilled Sakura's tongue. The moonlight and shadows made it difficult to tell, but she thought she saw the dusting of pink on the Kazekage's cheeks. "It's none of my business-"

"What would I do in Suna?" Sakura interrupted, annoyed that Naruto would put Gaara in this position. "My life is here."

"You did amazing things with the poison Sasori used on Kankuro. Even Chiyo wasn't able to construct an antidote that quickly." Gaara must have seen the pain that crossed Sakura's face at the memory, because he hurried on. "And, you saved Naruto during the war, when all hope was lost. You're an unrivaled medic. Our shinobi could learn a great deal from you."

Gaara slid a finger beneath the crimson collar of his coat, loosening it. If Sakura hadn't known better, she would have thought he was nervous. "Tsunade-sama will stay in Konoha long enough to train Kakashi as her successor, so you'd have a few months to spare, if you want. Then, you could come back to the Leaf and oversee the hospital here."

Despite everything, Sakura burst out laughing. "Is there anything Naruto didn't help you plan?"

Gaara's flush deepened. "We're leaving tomorrow," he added curtly, ignoring her outburst. "If you want to come with us."

The man stood and started to turn away. Realizing the rudeness of her actions, Sakura followed and caught Gaara's sleeve. He startled at the touch, and she dropped her hand away with a blush of her own. "I wasn't laughing at you," she corrected hastily. "I can tell that Naruto put you up to this. You'd have no reason to think of me otherwise."

"That isn't true," Gaara shifted weight to his opposite foot, not quite looking at her. "I never properly thanked you for helping Kankuro, or me."

Sakura paused, realizing it was true. Gaara had publicly thanked Naruto, of course. Without his help, they never would have been able to rescue Gaara. And without Chiyo's sacrifice, their efforts would have been in vain. The memory was painful enough that Sakura shied away from it. "Anyone would have done the same," she brushed off his words.

"Few _could have_ accomplished it," Gaara argued, then shook his head. "The offer stands if you're interested. I think our medical nin could learn a great deal from you."

"Thank you, Kazakage-sama," Sakura paused and drew a breath before correcting herself. "Gaara."

The man's lips quirked upward again. "We're leaving at dawn."

"I'll see you then." The answer surprised Sakura, but she knew it was the right one. Time away from Konoha, from the pitying looks of her friends, and the reminders of Sasuke, might be exactly what she needed. The decision made the pressure in her chest ease. Sakura had a plan now; she wasn't worthless, and she could prove that in Suna.


	4. Regret (Sakura/Tenzo)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr request from denilmo for Sakura/Tenzo with the prompt of 'I should have kissed you'.

The autumn breeze cut through Tenzo's long sleeve shirt, making him shiver, while decaying leaves flavored the pungent air. Though spring would always be his favorite season, Tenzo enjoyed the changes that fall brought. Gold, amber, and crimson leaves clung to branches, painting a scene to rival anything a human could create, even in the moonlight.

A shoulder bumped against his side, pulling Tenzo from his thoughts. "You wouldn't be so cold if you hadn't given me your jacket," Sakura teased, glancing up with unreadable, green eyes.

"No, I wouldn't," Tenzo agreed. "But, you would."

Sakura made a sound of agreement, snuggling deeper into the warmth. The wind whipped strands of pink hair across her face as they walked. Tenzo pressed his hands into his pockets, keeping them still, and wondering at the fact that he was walking Sakura home after dinner.

The change had happened slowly enough that it didn't seem out of place until Tenzo examined it closely. After the war, Kakashi had insisted on getting his former team together for dinner frequently. Tenzo had been thrilled to be included with the original members, along with Sai.

A month or so later, however, Kakashi had begun his usual antics of getting lost on the path of life. Naruto faded next, citing the pressures of missions and hokage training. Then, Sai as well, until only Sakura and Tenzo remained.

Their first dinner alone together had been awkward and comfortable at the same time. They'd discussed Sakura's work at the hospital, and Tenzo's struggles as head of Kakashi's Anbu. By the end of the meal, they hardly noticed that no one else was there. Occasionally, other members did join them, but more often than not, it was just Tenzo and Sakura. Somewhere along the way, he'd come to prefer the latter.

"Do you really think that Kakashi got tied up in another meeting?" Sakura asked, breaking the tentative silence between them. When Tenzo shrugged, she laughed. "You're head of his security, Yamato. If anyone should know, it's you."

 _Yamato_. That code name stung more than it should have for someone who had been an Anbu operative since childhood. Tenzo wondered if it mattered that Sakura knew him by a mission persona. Everything had been real except his name.

"Senpai does what he wants," Tenzo finally answered. "He doesn't exactly take my advice."

"Do you mind that he skips out on us so often?" Sakura's voice dropped as they turned onto the less busy street leading to her apartment.

For a moment, Tenzo paused to wonder what Sakura was asking. Of course he didn't mind when it was just the two of them. But, he couldn't tell her that. Could he? "Not necessarily," he hedged, glancing at Sakura from the corner of his eye. Her lips curved upward slightly.

Tenzo wondered if he should say something else, but he had no idea what it would be. They were nearly to Sakura's apartment anyway. The pinkette pulled a set of keys from her pocket and idly toyed with them before turning back toward him. "You don't sound all that enthusiastic," Sakura laughed. "I was going to see if you wanted to go to a movie tomorrow, but if that's the way-"

"Yes," Tenzo interrupted, and immediately felt a blush creep onto his cheeks. He rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. "I mean, that sounds good. If you want to."

Sakura had the decency not to laugh. Instead, she smiled in a way that made Tenzo's heart skip a beat while shrugging out of his jacket. _Kami, Kakashi is going to kill me_. Sakura held the coat out to him. "I wouldn't have asked otherwise."

For a dizzying moment, the rest of the world faded to a dull buzz of inconsequential sound. Moonlight, or maybe streetlight, softened Sakura's features. The breeze caught her hair, pulling strands of pink across cheeks that were dusted in the same color. Tenzo nearly reached out to brush them away and run his thumb over the skin beneath. It would be as easy as tipping her chin upward while leaning in to meet their lips together.

The scene shattered with the detonation of a paper bomb.

Heat licked Tenzo's cheek as the impact flung him across the street. His back slammed into the wall on the opposite side, knocking the air out of his lungs as darkness pulled him under.

Tenzo became aware of the pain first, agony rippling from the back of his head, then following along his spine. He jerked as the memory came back full force, choking out Sakura's name, and managed to roll onto his side despite his body's protests. Rubble and smoke filled the street, choking the air he'd managed to gather. Something warm ran down his temple, but Tenzo ignored it.

The bomb must have been attached to Sakura's door, triggering when she leaned against the frame. _Sakura was the target; someone tried to kill her_. Anbu training tried to force itself through the surging panic, but the emotion won when Tenzo noticed the splash of crimson beside him. He shoved a charred, broken piece of door out of the way. Sakura lay beneath, head tipped to the side and hand thrown over her forehead, unmoving.

"It's going to be okay." Tenzo mumbled, ignoring the trails of blood running from the woman's ear and nose. He pulled her closer, brushing over the dirt and abrasions on her face. Angry, red cuts marred her perfect features. When he pressed against her pulse point, Sakura's eyes fluttered open, attempting to focus.

"Yamato." Sakura coughed his name, trying to raise a hand to his face. It moved only a fraction before she grimaced and fell still.

Tenzo forced a smile, trying not to look at the bloody swath of fabric that covered Sakura's chest and stomach. She'd landed on her back, disguising the worst of the damage. Desperately, Tenzo's mind ran through the calculations of blood loss and approximate time for Anbu to arrive. They should be able to reach this area of the village within five minutes, and they'd have a medic with them. How long had he been unconscious?

At the repetition of his name, Tenzo looked down into Sakura's green eyes. Forcing a smile, he pushed the hair out of her face the way he's wanted to earlier. "I should have kissed you," he confessed, leaning close to be sure she heard him.

"You should have." The words were a whisper against Tenzo's chest as Sakura leaned closer. She managed to catch his gaze. "You still could."

Tenzo chuckled weakly in the back of his throat and cradled Sakura's cheek. She closed her eyes when he dipped lower to gently press their lips together. Tenzo stayed there until he felt a soft exhalation, then tipped his forehead against hers. By his calculation, at best, help should arrive in the next three minutes. They were the longest one hundred and seventy-four seconds of Tenzo's life.


	5. Wait, what? (Madara/Kakashi)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr request for MadaKaka and the prompt was "You've got to stop doing that." "What?" "Saying things that make me want to kiss you."

"Damn this rain," Madara growled under his breath, slogging through the mud. "And damn this damn mission."

"Afraid it will mess up your perfect, Uchiha hair?" Kakashi smirked beneath his mask, leaping lightly to the next branch before those smoldering eyes could make contact.

Another soft string of curses slid between the other man's lips. Truth be told, Madara had a point. The pair of them had been assigned basic reconnaissance for an ongoing mission. Well, Kakashi led the mission, which meant he'd sent the pair of them to gather intel while the rest of their team scampered into position and set up camp. The idea had seemed like a good one at the time, until the rain settled in, and Madara's mood plummeted.

"What was that upjumped Senju woman thinking, putting you in charge of this." Annoyance colored Madara's voice.

The jonin glanced down with an easy eye-smile and replied without missing a beat. "She obviously thought that I was best suited to lead."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're annoying?" Madara glared into the trees, crossing his arms over his chest. Though Kakashi couldn't see it in his expression, face hidden as it was by a curtain of hair, he knew Madara was losing patience.

Kakashi dropped beside the shorter man. That annoyed Madara too, though their heights were close enough that it hardly mattered. "Frequently," he answered.

"Are you sure you aren't related to Tobirama? You almost look like him with that silver hair of yours." Madara frowned thoughtfully.

Laughter slipped out before Kakashi could stop it. "There's worse company to be in than that of the Second Hokage." He wasn't exactly sure of the relationship between Tobirama and Madara, but he knew it must have been a complicated one with the history between the Uchiha and Senju clans.

Madara had been accepted back into the village after being away for so long, but only with a minder. Somehow, that had become Kakashi. He'd expected it to be almost as bad as babysitting genin, but Madara was interesting. That wasn't quite the right word, but Kakashi couldn't come up with a better one. The man knew dozens of jutsu that Kakashi would love to copy, but he was especially careful around the borrowed sharingan.

"That wasn't an answer." Madara complained.

Kakashi tipped his head forward with another grin. "No, it wasn't."

Madara let out another frustrated sound. "You must be related, you're nearly as annoying as he was."

Kakashi felt the anger rolling of the Uchiha in waves. He hadn't been able to get under someone's skin this easily since Obito. Madara was considerably more dangerous than Obito, however, so Kakashi probably shouldn't continue to push his buttons. _Probably_. "You just don't like admitting we're both wittier than you are."

"How many times have you been punched for that smart mouth of yours?" Kakashi didn't miss the way that Madara's hand balled into a fist as he turned. Perhaps he should tone back his teasing somewhat; they _were_ on a mission.

"Maa, maa," Kakashi soothed. "I'm only teasing. I'll be good. Until we get through with the mission anyway."

Madara snorted in disbelief. "I highly doubt that."

"You need to loosen up, are you always this uptight?" Kakashi crouched down, listening to the rain splashing around them while checking for enemy sounds. The difficulty of this mission was below both he and Madara's skill, so he wasn't overly worried about being caught out, but it never hurt to be cautious. Kakashi flashed another eye smile.

"Maybe" When Kakashi stood, Madara watched him with unreadable black eyes. "Why do you care so much?"

Kakashi tipped his head to the side again, looking at his teammate. He shouldn't push any further, he really shouldn't, but this was the most boring mission he'd been sent on in months. "Because, Dara-chan, I have to find something to amuse myself with."

"And it might as well be me?" Amazingly, Madara let the diminutive honorific slide. "I have to warn you, Hatake, I'm not easy prey."

Not for the first time, Kakashi stopped to look at Madara, really look at him. Broad shoulders with inky hair falling down his back and covering half of his face, a grin that was hard won but worth the effort, and intelligent dark eyes that weighed everything they saw. Handsome, deadly, and being an Uchiha, almost certainly a little crazy. "It wouldn't be fun if you were," Kakashi responded. He'd long since found that flirting could put even the most hardened shinobi off balance.

"Do you think you're up to the challenge, then?" A slight twitching of Madara's lips indicated that he was teasing, but only just.

The change surprised Kakashi, but since he'd started this, he could hardly let it go. "Some things are worth the effort."

Raising one, visible eyebrow, Madara shook his head. "You've got to stop doing that."

"What?" Kakashi asked, brushing leaves off his knee as he straightened to his full height.

Madara grinned, lips pulling up into a rare smile, and took a step. "Saying things that make me want to kiss you."

Kakashi immediately realized how close Madara was standing, and the way the water glistened off his black hair and red armor. Time didn't quite stop, but it definitely slowed while he tried to formulate a comeback.

Madara laughed. "You aren't the only witty one, pretty boy. Come on, we have a mission to finish."


	6. Greater Good (Sasuke/Sakura)

The humid, hospital air clung to Sasuke like a suffocating blanket, threatening to choke the breath from his lungs. Several shinobi cast him disapproving glances when they thought he wouldn't notice, their judgement hanging nearly as heavy as the atmosphere. He pretended not to see, occupying his time by staring out the window. With spring just around the corner, trees were beginning to bud, and the world had taken on a verdant hue. The calming scene relaxed some of his nervousness.

All the chairs surrounding Sasuke were empty. He preferred it that way. Both Naruto and Kakashi had offered to sit with him, Naruto with those hopeful, blue eyes, and Kakashi with his guarded, grey ones. Sasuke had refused, and none of the hospital staff spoke to him. His war crimes had branded him an outcast in Konoha, and no one wanted to risk dirtying their reputation by being seen with him.

Even being in the hospital made the Uchiha's chest tighten and his heart pound. He remembered waking up here, hoping the memory of death and blood had been a nightmare. Then, later, he'd recovered from Itachi's genjutsu and challenged Naruto on the roof, shortly before leaving the village for good. Nearly all of Sasuke's memories in Konoha were painful. He chuckled soundlessly. _All_ of his memories were painful.

One of the women working behind the desk raised her head at the sound, brown eyes skimming over him nervously. That reaction was common enough that it no longer stung. Somewhere, just outside this wing perhaps, the rest of his acquaintances waited for news. He could go to them, force a smile, and act like the rest of the village didn't see a traitor when they looked at him, both for his Uchiha blood, and his status during the war. But he didn't feel up to facing that. Only Naruto had kept the judgment from the rest of their class at bay. Sakura had tried, for a while, but that had shifted in the past year. Sasuke didn't begrudge her the change of heart; he could never be what she needed.

The door to Sasuke's right swung open, and Tsunade stepped out, wiping her hands on a cloth. Sweat dappled the woman's forehead as she turned, honey brown eyes capturing his gaze. Her lips curved downward slightly, like she'd gotten a bad taste in her mouth. Shaking her head, the woman pushed the door wider. "You can go in."

Sasuke inclined his head and stood. The words he wanted to stay caught in his throat, so he didn't try to force them as he walked through the doors. The blaringly white room that he stepped into smelled of sweat, blood, and antiseptic. Sasuke drew a breath, silently reminding himself that he could do this. Steady beeps assaulted his ears as he pulled the cloak from his shoulders and threw it over a chair. His heart beat unnaturally loud as he reached for the curtain that surrounded the bed, pulling it back.

Sakura lay ensconced in pillows and blankets, hair pulled up in a messy bun that let damp tendrils escape to brush her flushed cheeks. Green eyes were rimmed with red, and sweat or tears clung to her eyelashes. A sheet covered her chest, but Sasuke noticed her bare shoulders peeking above the cloth. He exhaled her name like a prayer.

"You came." Exhaustion painted Sakura's voice, but she tried to make it sound more cheerful. _Always sacrificing for me._

"Of course," Sasuke responded, ignoring the sharp ache in his chest that her words brought.

Shifting on the pillows, Sakura tugged the sheet down enough to reveal the baby. "You have a daughter," she said, lightly brushing her fingers over the perfectly round cheek.

Sasuke tried to find words to answer her, to thank her, but they refused to come. Raven dark hair covered the infant's head, curling softly on the edges, and equally inky eyes peered up at the two of them. The tilt of her nose and shape of her chin belonged to Sakura, however. "Her name's Sarada."

_Uchiha Sarada_. The last Uchiha. She'd never know her grandmother's gentle kindness, or the way Fugaku's stern face would ease into a smile when she did something right. She'd never sit on Itachi's shoulders and beg him to teach her his shuriken jutsu. Sasuke couldn't draw a breath. Konoha had been painted in shades of grey for him. Itachi deserved better; the Uchiha had deserved better.

"Do you want to hold her?" Sakura offered the tiny, pink-wrapped bundle, completely unaware of the dark thoughts plaguing the man beside her.

Sasuke could feel the weight of the entire village on his shoulders. Just on the other side of the wall, Sakura's friends waited to hear the news about the baby. But, in here, it was just them. She had arranged this haven from watchful eyes, but Sasuke couldn't escape hers, or the angry words they'd shared the last time they spoke. Sakura captured her bottom lip with her teeth and pulled the baby back against her chest. "I meant what I said, I don't want to live this way anymore."

"I know," Sasuke answered. "But, I can't be the person you want me to be." _I can't stay here and constantly feel the stares and judgements. I can't face the memories of what happened and act like all is forgiven. I can't put a permanent shadow over my daughter just to make myself feel better._

"Are you really that selfish?" Sakura lost the last word in a soft sob that she stopped just short of actual tears.

This was the real reason that Sakura had stolen these moments for the three of them, rather than allowing her friends to be part of this. Sasuke had chosen to be alone for the same reason. "Sakura," he tried, but she cut him off.

"Tell me that you're going to try harder, that we'll find a way to make this work. That's what you're good at, isn't it?" Sakura gasped the words, exhaustion and years of hurt fueling her anger. "Go ahead, lie to me again."

Sasuke didn't draw the breath in like he'd been punched, but it felt that way. He bent down and kissed Sarada's forehead, then Sakura's. "I love you."

The sob that rattled Sakura's chest could have been hurt or anger, but Sasuke didn't stay to see which. He turned away, squeezing his eyes shut as he pushed through the double doors into the hallway. He couldn't give either of them all the things they deserved. Both of their lives would be better without him in them.

Sasuke paused at the door leading out of the delivery wing, knowing that Naruto, and the only bit of acceptance he'd ever find, waited just on the other side. He used shunshin to escape the hospital and made it as far as the forests surrounding Konoha before allowing the tears to roll down his cheeks.


	7. Poison Flowers (Gaara/Ino)

Red sunlight bled through the glass, lending the eerie aura of a battlefield to the greenhouse. Crimson dusted flower petals and caught on Gaara's hair, making it flame brighter than normal. Ino watched the man from the corner of her eye, fingers lingering on the flower they'd just been discussing. Gaara laced his hands together behind his back without speaking, and for a moment, she considered brushing his arm. Undoubtedly, it would make the man startle, more from her forwardness in public than the touch. Well, maybe both.

Ino reached toward a cactus with luminous, purple tendrils sprouting from it. "What about this-"

Gaara caught her wrist before it could complete the journey. "That one is poisonous. The spines contain an especially powerful hallucinogen, as does the flower."

"What would it do?" Ino asked, curling her fingers away from the plant without pulling free.

Gaara released her arm. "It would make you live through your worst nightmare, or forget yourself in a fantasy. It's different for every person, but the result is always the same."

Ino had experienced genjutsu before, the poison couldn't be much different from that. And, she'd already lived through her worse nightmare, so what harm could it do? Ino's mind flashed back to the war, to the moment that she'd known the bijudama was going to decimate the Allied Shinobi headquarters, and Inoichi's final words rang in her ears. The air rushed out of the room. She couldn't draw a breath, something heavy pressed against her chest, suffocating her.

A hand touched Ino's shoulder, drawing her back from the memory. "Ino?"

Drawing a breath, Ino forced a grin. "I was trying to figure out what type of fantasy would be the most fun to lose myself in." She curled her voice playfully around the words to sell her lie.

Pink tinted Gaara's cheeks at the insinuation, but Ino could tell that he didn't believe her. Even so, he didn't press the issue, for which she was thankful. "I don't think you'd want this fantasy," he said. "The poison also suppresses the heartbeat, leading to death in high enough doses."

"It should have some a warning on it," Ino complained, glaring at the innocuous looking plant. Like most of the others in the greenhouse, the cacti blended seamlessly into the ones around it. Only a trained eye would be able to tell the one plant from another.

Gaara smiled. "This is the Kazekage's personal garden. If the plants kill someone, they probably shouldn't have been here in the first place."

The idea brought a true smile to Ino's lips as the pair continued down the crowded row. The war had colored her perception of even the most beautiful things. What should be considered a lovely sunset, now reminded Ino of the shade of a bruise as the sky faded toward true darkness. Neither Gaara nor Ino suggested going back to their rooms. Time rushed through their fingers, and though she knew it would come to an end soon enough, Ino couldn't bring herself to worry about it.

The silence between them would have been uncomfortable with anyone else, but somehow Ino found that it wasn't with Gaara. Nearly two months ago, she'd come to Suna with Shikamaru, ostensibly to see Sakura. Teasing her former teammate about his budding relationship with Temari had been an added bonus. The close proximity to Gaara had made he and Ino friends by default. A week turned into two, then a month, and now the second had nearly passed. As Ino's friends went on with their own lives, she'd found herself spending more time with Gaara.

Of course, Sakura had elbowed Ino and told her there was absolutely nothing wrong with falling for a kage. Ino had immediately protested that they only spent so much time together because Sakura was always busy with her work in the hospital. Even worse had been when Shikamaru got that annoying half grin as he watched Gaara and Ino chatting over dinner one night. He hadn't been as bold as to mention anything, but Temari had watched them with the same expression. Though hers contained a protective overtone as well.

Pushing the thought from her mind, Ino turned to face Gaara. "Yet, you let me come here?"

"Of course," Gaara answered. "It's rare that someone actually appreciates the gardens. Temari and Kankuro humor me at best. More recently, Sakura has seen them as a resource for antidotes, but they don't understand them. Not like you."

A smile tugged at the edges of Ino's mouth. If someone had told her that she and the Kazekage would share an interest in plants when she'd first met him, she would have laughed at them. But, here they were. "Not everyone can be as interesting as we are," she laughed, tucking a strand of blond behind one ear.

"I'm not interesting." Gaara shook his head as if he found the word distasteful. Running a hand through his crimson spikes of hair, he continued. "Until recently, boring would have been the better word to describe me."

Ino's pulse picked up at the words, and she tipped her head to the side with a questioning look. Gaara looked away, gaze traveling over the gardens surrounding them. "You intend to return to Konoha in the morning," he stated the obvious, looking more uncomfortable with every passing moment. "But, could I convince you to stay?"

Aquamarine eyes slid back toward Ino's, and she felt a flood of warmth through her chest. The past weeks of shared meals and stolen moments had become something she looked forward to, but she hadn't really allowed herself to hope Gaara felt the same. In fact, that was one of the reasons she'd decided to return to Konoha. If he wanted anything more, he would have initiated it by now. They were a friendship of convenience, and yet…

"It depends on the reason," Ino replied, breath catching in her throat.

Gaara stepped forward, his fingers teasing against hers then taking her hand. " _I_ want you to stay."

It was the first time Gaara had initiated such an intimate contact, and for a moment, Ino couldn't remember how to draw breath. As much as she'd teased Sakura about being innocent, most of Ino's experience came from things she'd heard rather than experienced. Standing this close to Gaara, her brain shorted out, and the only response she could think of came out as a squeak. "What?"

"I'd like you to stay," Gaara repeated, a pale shade of pink tinting his cheeks as his hand fell away from hers. "If you want to."

"Why would you want me to stay?" Ino dipped her head enough that she could look up at Gaara through her lashes, noticing the flush on his cheeks deepen until the color almost matched his hair.

Gaara cleared his throat. "I'm not good at this sort of thing," he began, running nervous fingers over his jacket. "I've enjoyed the time we spent together, and I want to get to know you better."

Though Ino had felt that irresistible tug toward Gaara, she had no idea if he felt the same until now. He remained aloof comparatively, though she'd begun to suspect that it was more his personality than a lack of interest. Judging by the intensity in his eyes, she'd been correct. "Nothing has ever scared me more than being with you, but I want-"

Laughter bubbled through Ino's lips though she tried to stop it, halting Gaara's words and transforming them into an apology. Before he could finish the sentiment, she closed the distance between them and pressed her lips against his to halt the slur of words. The world didn't explode with light, and time didn't stop, but the flutter of emotion in Ino's chest when Gaara circled his arms around her was definitely a good place to start.


	8. Rainstorm (Shikamaru/Temari)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is actually based on a fanart that I saw on tumblr and have been trying to find ever since. It was a beautiful piece with Shikamaru watching Temari dancing in the rain. Anyway, enjoy!

"Isn't there anything more interesting to do?" Temari's lower lip curved outward, forming a pout that she would never admit to having.

Shikamaru moved another piece across the board between them, lifting his dark eyes to the woman's face. "Find my company boring already?"

"I didn't say that," Temari argued, brow scrunching in concentration as she took in the positions of her tiles.

Though Shikamaru didn't say it, he had the woman beat in five to eight moves, no matter which path she selected. In the past few weeks, Temari had grown better at the game, but she was still hard pressed to come close to his skill. As he waited for her decision, Shikamaru studied the kunoichi across from him. Lantern light gilded Temari's features, bringing out the golden highlights in her hair and the sun-kissed quality of her skin.

The evening had grown to full night around them, but Shikamaru couldn't bring himself to care. They would say goodbye in the morning, Temari back to Suna, and Shikamaru back to his work as the Hokage's advisor. He'd asked her to dinner, then back to the Nara compound to play shogi. That had been four games ago, but neither had broken away. A cool breeze rippled through the panel that opened to the yard, cutting the summer heat.

Temari lifted her head and tipped it to the side. "What's that sound?"

"Rain," Shikamaru answered, turning to the darkness outside. Soft pattering filled the air, the ground greedily sucking up the moisture as it fell. He should have walked Temari back to her room before the storm started. The signs had been there: the oppressive heat weighing down and the chill that warned a of its coming. He'd selfishly wanted to steal a few more minutes while he could. Almost on cue, a soft rumble of thunder echoed in the distance.

Temari stood and crossed the room, stepping onto the porch that surrounded the house. Frowning, Shikamaru followed. "You should let me walk you back to-" He paused, realizing that Temari wasn't listening. Her green eyes opened wide, full of life, as she watched the ground grow increasingly damp. Shikamaru set down the lantern he carried, watching her.

Tentatively, Temari reached one hand from beneath the safety of the roof. Clear water splashed off of her skin, and to Shikamaru's amazement, Temari _giggled_. It wasn't as high pitched as Ino's, but it was definitely a giggle of delight. Forcing her sleeve higher to reveal a delicate wrist, the woman let the rain run down her forearm, her other arm hugged around a post. Childlike wonder softened her face.

"I can't believe there's this much water just falling from the sky," Temari sounded much younger than her age.

_Of course_ , Shikamaru realized with a start. They didn't have thunderstorms in Suna; Temari would be unfamiliar with them. It wouldn't be the first time she'd seen rain, of course, but perhaps the first time she could marvel at it freely. Rather than interrupt her facination, Shikamaru sank to the porch in silence.

Finally letting her damp arm fall back to her side, Temari leaped into the rain completely. For a moment, she stood there, face turned up to the sky as the droplets splashed against her skin. Then, she let out another soft laugh. Thunder rumbled again, distantly, but she was too consumed in the feeling of the water to notice any danger.

Shikamaru disregarded it too. More difficult to ignore, however, was the way Temari's robe drank in the liquid, conforming to her body beneath. A blush burned his cheeks as he watched her turn in the rapidly forming downpour. Tendrils ran over her face, glistening in the soft flicker of the lantern light. She danced through the storm, turning her attention back to him. A single eyebrow raised skyward when she saw Shikamaru's face, but a more devious smile slipped onto her lips. "Aren't you going to join me? Surely this is more interesting than shogi."

"No, I'd rather not get soaked," Shikamaru answered.

"Too troublesome for you?" Temari grabbed his hand and tugged, giving Shikamaru the option of pulling her onto the porch with him or letting her guide him to his feet.

The summer rain was warm enough not to make Shikamaru shiver, but cool enough to feel refreshing. The conscious weight of Temari's hand in his made his heart do a nervous twitch. She grinned at him, rain slicking her hair to her forehead and cheeks as water beaded on her eyelashes. She radiated life, and enough beauty to take his breath. If one believed in that sort of thing, anyway. Shikamaru didn't. Temari spun, drawing him in a half dance across the muddy ground, and if his heart pounded louder, it was only mimicking the thunder. It had nothing to do with the proximity of her body to his.

"Don't you love the rain?" Temari asked, eyes still shining as she looked up at him. Her movements brought her almost fully against his chest.

"Yes," Shikamaru answered without thought. The truth was that he hated the rain. It reminded him of another day, icy water slicking armor to his body while washing away the sweat and tears. A flame fighting through, and a tendril of smoke rising in defiance of the weather. He'd understood what sacrifice meant that day, and every day since.

Temari must have sensed the change in Shikamaru as the memory flickered through his mind. Hands fisted against the damp navy of his shirt and drew him closer, though there was hardly space. "Convince me," she breathed, half a moment before her lips found his.

There may have been some truth in the power of emotion. A strange, new feeling exploded through his chest, pushing the other memory back into the shadows of his heart where it belonged. Temari leaned in, body pressing fully against Shikamaru's, and his hands slid around her hips like it was the most natural thing in the world. Thunder cracked in the distance, but neither turned away. If anything, Shikamaru pulled her nearer.

Moments or hours had passed when Temari pulled away long enough to draw a breath. "Mmm," she purred, another sound Shikamaru never thought he'd hear her make. "That's a good start, but I'm not entirely convinced-"

When Shikamaru captured her lips before she could finish, Temari chuckled against them. Somehow, between the heat of her body and the coolness of the storm around them, Shikamaru willingly lost himself. Temari's hands and touch made it hard to think. _Maybe the rain isn't so bad_ , he though, surrendering to the warm feeling growing inside of him.


	9. Anatomy Lesson (Kakashi/Tenzo)

Golden sunlight slowly faded into the deeper hues of night. Tenzo sighed, breathing in the heavy scent of decaying paper and dust. He flipped through the book in front of him, eyes skimming over the words. This wasn't pertinent to what he was supposed to be researching, but the theory of expanding chakra was an interesting one. A soft chuckle pulled Tenzo's attention from the page. He glanced over at his companion, annoyance swirling through him. Kakashi had a stack of books in front of him as well, but the familiar cover of _Icha Icha_ leaned against their spines.

"Are you serious? You better not be reading porn when we're supposed to be researching," Tenzo growled under his breath.

"Maa, maa," Kakashi soothed, eye curving into the familiar smile that his mask hid.

Tenzo was temporarily distracted by the way the moonlight caught on the silver hair. The jonin's grin increased, shifting the fabric enough that he could see the outline of lips beneath. Despite his frustration, Tenzo imagined slipping his fingers under the annoying blue cloth and running his thumb along the soft curve of Kakashi's smile.

"-more interesting things," Kakashi's voice broke through the momentary spell, startling Tenzo. Judging from the words he caught, there'd been an invitation there.

"We're supposed to be preparing for a mission," Tenzo reproved, turning his eyes back to the book.

Kakashi leaned closer until only a few, scant inches separated them. "We've done plenty of research. Besides, we could spend time studying anatomy instead."

The playful lilt in Kakashi's voice dragged a laugh from Tenzo. "Did you get that out of your book?" He eyed _Icha Icha_ a second time, wondering how someone like Kakashi could lose himself in what basically amounted to smut. Surely he had higher standards than that.

Kakashi didn't appear fazed by Tenzo's amusement. "Our opponent is skilled in ninjutsu, correct?" The jonin waited for Tenzo's nod before continuing. "So, we may not be able to attack with jutsu. We may have to fall back to hand to hand combat. Anatomy is important."

Cool fingers brushed against Tenzo's temple. "A blow here is enough to incapacitate a target." Kakashi's hand slid around Tenzo's neck, pushing brown hair out of the way. Despite himself, the Anbu shivered. "Here, could drop him to his knees, or paralyze him with enough force."

Tenzo almost argued that he knew all of this when Kakashi's touch circled back to the front of his throat. The gap in his flak vest allowed the jonin access to Tenzo's pulse point. He wondered if Kakashi felt the way his heart sped at the touch. "A kunai here, and he'll bleed out within minutes. Well," Kakashi frowned, then deft fingers rolled down the black fabric that sheathed Tenzo's neck. The pressure increased alongside his pulse. "This is more accurate."

"Sometimes, marks can be difficult though," Kakashi continued as if he couldn't hear the soft intake of Tenzo's breath. "Not everyone will let you get close with a blade, so you have to take a different approach."

The warmth of Kakashi's breath teased the exposed skin. "Seduction missions are popular for a reason," the man murmured. Tenzo jumped when another hand smoothed over his chest. At some point, Kakashi had unzipped the heavy vest encasing his upper body. Pressure on his right shoulder guided Tenzo onto his back. He went willingly.

"The closer you can physically get to your target, the better." Kakashi continued, sliding one knee across Tenzo's lap to straddle him. "From here, there are dozens of places you could reach to kill someone."

Tenzo meant to argue, he really did, but Kakashi's weight distracted him. "You have to make sure their senses are dulled by filling them with something else," the jonin's voice dropped softer as he leaned dangerously close to Tenzo's ear. "You need them distracted."

Impossibly soft lips brushed Tenzo's ear, and his entire body jerked in response. When had Kakashi removed his mask? As the kisses moved lower, Tenzo decided he didn't care. He lifted his arms to circle Kakashi's back, but the other man caught his hands and pressed them against the rough, wooden floor, linking their fingers together.

Kakashi leaned in, almost close enough to kiss, and for a moment, Tenzo forgot to breathe. The mask puddled between them, revealing the devilish smirk of Kakashi's lips and the beauty mark just to the side. Tenzo had never wanted to kiss anything so much, but Kakashi remained just out of reach. The man shifted, grabbing Tenzo's hands in a one of his, the other coming to lightly brush Tenzo's cheek.

The touch disappeared, and warm lips teased against Tenzo's neck and traveled up to capture his ear lobe. He stuttered out Kakashi's name as his body trembled with longing. Something cold pressed against Tenzo's neck, and through the haze of desire, he recognized the frigid bite of metal.

"I just killed you," Kakashi chuckled, pulling back. "I guess you still have a few things to learn."

Jerking his hands free, Tenzo tugged Kakashi closer by his vest. "Teach me, then."


	10. Shell (Kakashi.Tenzo)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is based on the beautiful artwork of vibgyoroygbiv on tumblr in which Tenzo is falling apart after the war, and Kakashi fights to save him.

"Dammit Tenzo," Kakashi growled, dropping to his knees next to the black and grey form. Crimson splashed across the other man's chest, bubbling from a gash near his collarbone. Tenzo didn't lift his head in response to the name, and for a moment, fear stole Kakashi's breath. Tenzo's happuri head protector hung askew, pushing brown hair up on one side, while the other hung down in damp tendrils. Blood covered his cheek despite the rain pouring around them. "Tenzo?"

The man mumbled something that Kakashi couldn't quite catch over the noise of the storm or the blood roaring in his ears. When he made a questioning sound, Tenzo raised his head. Kakashi almost flinched back from the emptiness in those once familiar depths. Shadows cloaked eyes that had once danced with amusement. Kakashi had seen that look before, staring back at him from the mirror not long after he entered Anbu in his younger days. He never expected to see it on Tenzo.

"It's Kinoe," Tenzo repeated, voice emotionless.

Memories of the Root operative swam to the forefront of Kakashi's mind: the boy ready to kill without question on Danzo's whim. Kakashi's hand balled into a fist against his thigh and he released the air in his lungs slowly to keep from overreacting. "Your name is Tenzo." He kept the anger and worry from his voice much as possible.

"No, it isn't," Tenzo managed a humorless laugh that devolved into a groan of pain.

 _Broken ribs_ , Kakashi's mind supplied helpfully, but he ignored that. Those didn't matter nearly as much as the man self-imploding in front of him. "You are not Kinoe," Kakashi bit off every word sharply. "That is not who you are. Not anymore."

Tenzo didn't look at Kakashi, and the older man felt his chest tighten uncomfortably. Before he'd become a jonin instructor, Kakashi's friends had expressed fears about how dark of a path Anbu had led him down. He'd laughed it off then. But now, looking at Tenzo, those worries didn't seem as trivial as they had then.

"I'm a killer, an assassin, a tool." Tenzo's words didn't carry the inflections they should have. The list held no pride or horror; he might as well have remarked on the weather. "Nothing more."

Anger flitted through Kakashi's chest. He'd seen the signs and ignored them, thinking Tenzo could never be as screwed up as he was. Tenzo was stronger than Kakashi had ever been, less brittle or prone to shattering. When he noticed that the Anbu's missions were becoming more reckless and dangerous, he'd written it off as the life of shinobi. It was nothing Kakashi wouldn't have done, so why should Tenzo be any different? The injuries had become more frequent in the past six months, and the recovery time shorter, then nonexistent. _I should have noticed_.

"You're Tenzo," Kakashi repeated as if the words had the power to drive out the demons clutching his friend. "Look at me."

That empty gaze came up a second time, catching Kakashi's. He'd grown used to easy smile in Tenzo's eyes, the righteous anger on missions, even the moment of disbelief that sometimes sparked in their depths. Brokenness wasn't something Kakashi could fathom.

"You left me." The accusation in Tenzo's words hit Kakashi harder than a fist. "I should have died before they could take my knowledge and use my jutsu to build an army."

 _The war, of course it comes back to that. I should have known._ Guilt weighed down on Kakashi's chest. "You don't mean that," he started to argue, but Tenzo interrupted him.

"A tool turned against its owner should be destroyed without sympathy." Tenzo looked past Kakashi, exhaling. The blood running down the man's chest and cheek had stopped, Tenzo's healing ability overriding his injuries as it always did.

Kakashi raised one hand and ran damp fingers over the spot of red on Tenzo's cheek. He thought the Anbu would jerk away, but those haunted eyes met his again. "You're more than a tool. You're a damn good shinobi and Anbu, but so much more than that. You're Tenzo." _My Tenzo._ Kakashi couldn't force out the final words, but they rang through his mind louder than anything else.

As the blood disappeared under Kakashi's fingers, blending with the dirt marring Tenzo's features, he felt an inexplicable tug. This was his fault. Tenzo had been his responsibility since he'd helped the man get out of Root. Kakashi had pulled him into a different life, trained him, befriended him, then left him. The accusation left a sour taste in the back of his throat. The darkness that ate at Tenzo was one that Kakashi knew intimately, and he'd left Tenzo to drown in it alone.

Raising his other hand, Kakashi forced Tenzo to look at him and leaned close, close enough that he could have brushed his lips against the other man's if he wanted to. "Look at me," he demanded when Tenzo's eyes tried to dart away from his face. "You aren't alone. I'm right here, and I'm not letting go. Just keep your eyes on me."

Bone-deep pain shone in Tenzo's eyes for half a second before he looked away and inclined his head. Kakashi took that as a victory. Any emotion, even hurt, was better than nothing. Slipping one arm under the other man's shoulder, Kakashi pulled him to his feet. "Come on, let's go home."


	11. Humility (Madara/Kakashi)

Kakashi's breath hitched in his throat, escaping unmasked lips in a desperate gasp. An expletive followed the sound as his fingers tangled in the silky, black hair that tickled his chest and stomach. Kami, breathing seemed near impossible. Against every desire of his body, Kakashi's grip tightened, lifting the other man's head. "We're going to get caught." His voice sounded far too breathless.

"Where is your sense of adventure?" Madara husked. Long fingers hooked in the loops of Kakashi's pants, sliding them down enough to reveal the cut of hip bones. With a devilish grin, Madara pressed another kiss over the curling, silver hair that disappeared under the black fabric. Kakashi bit his lip, savoring the tang of blood as he slammed a fist into the tree behind him. "I thought you liked danger."

Tugging Madara's head backward again, Kakashi exhaled. "You are more than enough danger already."

Madara hummed against Kakashi's stomach, making his body shudder. "Is that so?"

"You're a war criminal," Kakashi reasoned, reaching for excuses like flimsy shields. "I'm supposed to be guarding you, not sleeping with you."

"We can always use restraints if that makes you feel better," Madara laughed, tracing a line down to Kakashi's pants. His clever fingers paused at the button, then dropped lower to cup Kakashi in his hand. "I'm not opposed to being rough, either. If that's what you want." A sharp nip accented Madara's words, catching on hard muscle.

A stronger curse slipped from Kakashi's lips as he leaned against the rough bark. Danger and confidence radiated from Madara in heatwaves that reduced Kakashi to ash, an inferno that he craved as much as he fought. Exhaling, he brushed through the inky waves cascading down Madara's back. He loved the feel of the strands against his bare skin. Taking Kakashi's touch as permission, Madara knelt on the grass.

"What about a gag?" The Uchiha suggested, grinning as he popped open the button on Kakashi's pants. When the jonin frowned, Madara's smirk grew. "I intend to make you beg, and if you don't want to get caught, it seems reasonable." His voice trailed off, heavy with implication.

Coming somewhat out of the haze of pleasure that Madara's lips induced, Kakashi's scowl deepened. "I don't beg."

Humming softly, Madara leaned in to breath against newly exposed flesh. The warmth contrasted with the chill in the air, making Kakashi's hips buck forward with their own intent. With another devious smile, Madara curled his tongue against Kakashi's overheated skin, chasing the sharp lines lower. "You wouldn't be the first to break under my will."

"I'm not as easy as you seem to think," Kakashi mumbled, fighting to hold onto his annoyance. "No matter how arrogant you are, Uchiha."

Madara chuckled, and Kakashi wanted to curse. The fact that he'd stopped using his lover's given name revealed that he was struggling to hold back his desire. Madara knew that, and he loved when Kakashi presented a challenge. The thrill of the chase heightened the capture. "While humility is not one of my many virtues, I do have a few redeeming factors," Madara teased against Kakashi's thigh.

When Kakashi didn't answer, Madara's hands clasped his hips to hold them steady. Glancing up, the Uchiha smiled in a way that made Kakashi's heart skip a beat. Fire roared in his black eyes. "I'll show you."

Less than two minutes passed before Kakashi started begging. In five, he no longer cared who heard him.


	12. Rules (Asuma/Kurenai)

Asuma exhaled, vaguely aware of the breeze rustling through the plants outside. The familiar sound comforted him, easing the stress of the past few day to a distant buzz. Kurenai nestled against his chest, ear pressed over his heart. She enjoyed listening to the steady pounding as it returned to normal. Soft grey light painted the walls, shifting toward the golden hue of dawn. Only a few stolen moments together remained.

Sighing, Asuma worked his fingers through the tangle of black hair cascading down Kurenai's back. The woman stirred, nails lightly curling over his stomach. "Did you tell Kakashi?" She asked without lifting her head.

Asuma couldn't stop the amusement that rumbled in his chest. "Tell him what? That we're sleeping together? That you're amazing in bed?"

Fingers poked warningly into Asuma's ribs, and he chuckled a second time. Kurenai apparently wasn't in a mood for his joking this morning. "I was going to, but I couldn't figure out what to say. Then, _someone_ interrupted us."

Kurenai blushed prettily at the insinuation that she'd cut their conversation short. "I thought you'd had time to talk about it."

Pulling her closer, Asuma sighed. "Does it matter? Everyone will know in a few months anyway." He moved his free hand beneath their tangled sheets to brush the smooth expanse of Kurenai's stomach.

Neither spoke for several moments as the reality settled over them again. Kurenai had been quieter than usual the past couple of weeks, presumably lost in her thoughts. Asuma couldn't blame her; he felt the same way. All of the signs were pointing toward war in the village, and though neither had spoken of the future, it was all he could think about.

When Asuma said her name, Kurenai made a questioning sound against his skin. Drawing a breath and trying to fit the words together the way he wanted, he paused. Kurenai pulled away to look up, prompting him to continue.

"It's just, well, what I mean to say, is would you marry me?" Kurenai's silence made Asuma's heart do a funny thing where it stopped beating, then galloped in an effort to catch up to itself.

"This doesn't mean you have to marry me," Kurenai answered, frowning, and Asuma's hope plummeted. "We can raise the baby either way, plenty of couples do, especially shinobi since the future is so uncertain."

Asuma pushed himself into a sitting position. "It's not about that," he argued, trying harder than ever to find the right words. "I broke my rules for you."

The whispered confession made Kurenai's forehead scrunch in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I never wanted to be like my dad." Asuma stared at the ceiling as the words poured out with the memory. He saw Hiruzen, much younger than he'd been at the end, in his Hokage robes. He remembered the anger he felt watching his mother do all the work around the house as his father slaved for a village that didn't care. The memory of decisions that cost the lives of Asuma's friends still stung, but his father made them without favoritism. The Hokage had built a wall between himself and his family, one almost too high to tear down.

"I hated him, and the village that he put first, for years. After watching him, I swore that I'd be a ninja and nothing else." Exhaling, the man fell silent for a few moments. "I was happy as a shinobi: a weapon, a tool. I never wanted the complication of love or a family. _Until you_." The final words were the hardest to push out; they felt like they were being ripped from Asuma's chest. He hadn't meant to say all of that.

Kurenai's sanguine eyes shone with tears as she leaned in to kiss him. "I love you," she breathed against his lips. "I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you and our child."

Brushing his hand over Kurenai's back, Asuma sighed softly. "I love you too." The weight in his chest increased tenfold as he looked at the woman he was willing to risk everything for. The next confession choked him nearly as much as the last. "You know that Tsunade-sama will be sending our squads after the Akatsuki soon."

The threat to the village overshadowed everything. In addition to talking to Kakashi about his relationship with Kurenai, Asuma had wanted to talk to his fellow jonin about the coming storm. Only a fool could ignore it; all of the signs were there. In fact, Tsunade had ordered a meeting of all jonin on the active mission roster for this morning, presumably to discuss their plans moving forward. Time had slipped out of Asuma's hands. "I should get ready."

Kurenai hummed in agreement, rolling onto her side to watch Asuma get dressed. Chuckling, the man took longer than strictly necessary, flexing and bending just enough to show his muscles at their best possible advantage until Kurenai threw a pillow at him and warned that he'd be late. Grinning, he pulled his flak vest over his shoulders, then turned back to the bed to give her another kiss, enjoying the curve of her smile. That was a feeling he hoped to never get used to.

As he pulled back, Asuma reached into his pocket and lifted out the cigarettes that he kept there. He'd barely found his lighter before Kurenai caught his hand. "You can break your rules, not mine," she teased

Grinning, Asuma tucked the cigarette behind one ear. "I suppose that's fair enough. You'll make it up to me?"

"I think I can do that," Kurenai answered, tugging the man closer by his vest. Her kiss made him realize that being a few minutes late wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.


	13. Salvation (Tsunade/Sakumo)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mention of attempted suicide, blood, angst, depression, hurt, adult situations, some humor, this had way more warnings than I thought

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another request from tumblr, the prompt was "So you're the one who saved my life". I didn't realize how shippable these two were until I wrote this, now that possibilities seem endless. Why didn't I see it before? Join me on this ship, I'm dying to write more of them even though I have a million other things the need written. Thanks for reading!

Shadows clung to the ceiling, briefly chased away by the occasional lightning glowing through the window. Sakumo listened to the steady cadence of the rain for several heartbeats- _h_ _eartbeats that shouldn't exist any longer-_ before opening charcoal eyes to scan the room. A familiar form huddled in the corner, holding a bloody tanto, _his_ tanto. Another crack of light split the night, emphasizing the crimson on the woman's clothing.

Sticky liquid coated Sakumo's stomach, drenching the hands he used to push himself into a sitting position. "So, you're the one who saved my life?" He asked the question without a hint of malice or joy in his voice. "I should have known."

"How could you?" The disbelief and hurt in Tsunade's words twisted through Sakumo's gut the same way the blade had. "Haven't we lost enough already?"

Sakumo sighed and ran his hands over his stomach. Despite the smooth slit in his clothing, the skin beneath had fitted back together perfectly. Not even a scar remained, only the dampness of his blood. That particular smell hung heavy in the air, and he saw the wildness in Tsunade's eyes. He owed her an answer, but the words wouldn't come. How could he tell her that he'd failed his village, the one thing he still had going for him? How could he explain the fall from hero to outcast in a single mission?

"What about Kakashi?" The name of Sakumo's son hurt more than Tsunade's words or the knife. He thought of the boy, the brilliant, difficult genius that he was. Kakashi deserved better than having a failure overshadow his whole life. Sakumo had seen the way Kakashi's grey eyes hardened when someone muttered his father's name as a curse. It bothered Kakashi far more than Sakumo. Tsunade's whip-like voice pulled the jonin from his thoughts. "Did you even think about him?"

"Of course I did," Sakumo snapped, losing control of his patience. Everything he'd done had been for Kakashi. Exhaling to pull himself back under control, he pushed off the tatami mats to approach Tsunade. "I'm sorry."

Tsunade recoiled when Sakumo reached for her. Ignoring the movement, he caught her hand and pulled Tsunade to her feet. For half a moment, Sakumo worried that she'd hit him, but the woman leaned close with a soft sob. "I'm sorry," he repeated, knowing the too weak sentiment could never be enough.

"I can't lose you too," Tsunade mumbled in a small a voice.

Shushing her, Sakumo led Tsunade through the house toward the bathroom. Once inside, he turned on the shower, mindful to wash the blood from his hands. Stepping back, Sakumo pulled off his shirt and tossed it into the sink, incinerating it with a fire jutsu.

Crimson liquid covered the green hadori that Tsunade wore. Easing closer, Sakumo rested his hands on her shoulders. Though she shuddered, the woman didn't shrug from beneath his touch. Far more tenderly than he felt, Sakumo ran the tips of his fingers down the sides of Tsunade's neck, hooking them beneath the edge of her shirt. Sliding it from each shoulder, Sakumo laid the garment aside. Still half trembling, Tsunade pressed back. Sakumo brushed golden strands of hair away from her neck, fighting the urge to kiss the porcelain skin.

Sakumo hadn't seen Tsunade in month, nor had he felt the confusing swirl of emotion that she elicited. The medic had been the one to bring Kakashi into the world, secreted away in a cave near the border of Iwa. War had forged bonds of friendship between Sakumo and Tsunade, along with the rest of her team. She'd kept his secret, understanding the conflict in Sakumo's eyes when he begged for her help. The memory of blood and loss ripped through his heart again. He would never forget the solemn shake of the woman's head as she placed the baby in his arms.

Tsunade had been the one to help him construct the rumors about Kakashi's mother. So many shinobi had been lost or were late in returning from the war that it was easy to say she'd been a Konoha shinobi. Tsunade never brought up the woman that Sakumo had fallen in love with, then lost. In fact, they didn't talk about those days at all. She'd taken pity on him during the early months, helping him adjust to the stress of caring for a newborn.

Days had turned into weeks, then months before either realized. One day, completely exhausted after putting up with a grumpy, teething Kakashi, Tsunade and Sakumo had fallen into bed together. He'd woken with her head pillowed on his chest, one arm circled around her back. Then, he'd recognized the softness of lips against his skin. Their first time hadn't been passion, it was mutual loneliness that brought them together. Somehow, they both lost and found themselves there, broken pieces attempting to knit into a semblance of whole. Neither pushed for more, understanding that they weren't in a place to truly give themselves to someone else.

That knowledge didn't make the urge to ease Tsunade's hurt any less tempting. The woman and Kakashi had been the two pinpricks of light in the sea of darkness that dragged at Sakumo for years. He'd fought it, struggled against it, tried to keep his head above the water, but it had grown too much. All the pebbles of anguish from the past years had piled up, ending in a slide that dragged him under. Sakumo's last thought, as his heartbeat slowed, had been that he wished he could have told Tsunade goodbye too. He had bid a fonder farewell than usual to Kakashi before sending him on a mission yesterday morning. The intervening hours of silence and loneliness had taken their toll.

A sob rose in Sakumo's throat, and he struggled to force it down. All of his careful plans of sending Kakashi away on a mission suspected to last for several days, and a proposed meeting in his home with one of his oldest friends tomorrow had been ruined by Tsunade. The Hokage would have squared everything away before Kakashi got back from his mission. Though it would hurt, Kakashi was stronger than anyone realized. Sakumo knew the boy could pick up and go on without him.

Tsunade turned in Sakumo's arms, responding either to the sound he'd failed to hide or the silence that dragged on too long. She breathed his name, hands rising to cradle his cheeks with surprising gentleness. The touch shivered through his entire body. When Tsunade kissed him, it tasted of desperation and loss wrapped tightly in desire. He almost pushed her away,, but it had been so long since someone touched him with love that he couldn't help but crave it. Sakumo was so cold, and Tsunade blazed against him like a beacon.

In a tangle of limbs and disappearing clothes, the pair made it into the shower. It was hardly large enough for both, but they made it work. Hot water sprayed off Tsunade's shoulder, creating a mist between them as they pressed closer in the confined space. Crimson ran down, swirling against the white tile before disappearing into the drain. Tsunade's fingers traced the memory of the mortal wound she'd healed, and Sakumo found himself wishing that she'd left the scar.

"I won't lose you too," Tsunade repeated, reaching for Sakumo's lips a second time. Their difference in height was enough that he lifted her against the wall, presenting his back to the cascading water. Strong legs wrapped around his hips, drawing his body flush against hers until Tsunade filled every sense. Momentarily, the ache in Sakumo's chest lessened, replaced by heat and hope. Desire chased after them as one hand curled around Tsunade's hip, rocking with the movements of her body.

Losing himself in the feeling was alarmingly easy. Tsunade arched, nails finding Sakumo's back as his lips dropped to her shoulder. Long buried emotions surged in response to the warmth. How long had it been since-

"Dad?" Kakashi's voice came from he other side of the bathroom door, barely loud enough to hear over the running water and the rushing of blood in Sakumo's ears. Tsunade froze against him, horror painting her features. "We finished our mission early, so I'm home."

"Just a minute," Sakumo choked out, fighting to disentangle his limbs from the woman still wrapped around his waist. When he looked at Tsunade, amusement had replaced her shock. She pressed her face against his shoulder, entire body shaking with silent laughter. Sakumo couldn't stop the sound that bubbled in his chest, mimicking hers.

Sakumo could picture Kakashi tapping his foot on the other side of the door, young features set in annoyance at being delayed. "What did you do in the front room? It looks like you killed someone."

"I cut myself cleaning my tanto," Sakumo responded automatically, finally getting free of the shower to wrap a towel around himself.

Kakashi huffed, annoyed about the mess or Sakumo's lack of skill. "I'm going to get it cleaned up before it stains the floor," the boy said, voice heavy with adult responsibility. "You really should be more careful."

Quiet feet retreated from the door, and Sakumo leaned against the wall with a sigh.

"You really should be more careful," Tsunade said, alarmingly close to Sakumo's back. Her hand ran over muscles still slick with water as she kissed between his shoulders. 'I'm going to stick around to make sure you don't do anything stupid." _Again_. The word went without saying.

Eventually, Sakumo would need to explain Tsunade to Kakashi. She'd left before the boy had been old enough to remember her presence, though her legend would precede her. Having both of them nearby made the weight of a few hours ago seem almost bearable. _One day at a time_ , Sakumo repeated the mantra that had kept him going for so long, wrapping one arm around Tsunade. _Just take it one day at a time._


End file.
